The American Mystery
by demonchilde18
Summary: When the Potters are killed, Harry's only living relatives are in America. So that is where Albus Dumbledore sends him. However, his relatives really aren't the best choice for little Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: checks bank account Nope, not mine.

Beta: Who else, but Aisling. She is one of the few people that can actually put with me long enough to actually figure what the hell I'm asking her. Lol, she rocks.

A/N: Yes, I know the prologue is short, so I'm also giving you guys the first chapter. Yeah, I know that its cliché, but the more reviews I get, the more I will post. Now I will stop talking about stuff that nobody cares about, and you can go read the story.

A/N2: Last thing before the story: If anyone's read _The Rules of the Game _by skydreamer22, then you know that my story is pretty similar, in the beginning. However, as this story progresses, the differences become huge. That story is very good, and I'm giving it the credit it deserves.

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Title: The American Mystery

Prologue:

Albus Dumbledore popped yet another lemon drop into his mouth as he contemplated the situation he now found himself in. The elder Potters were dead. However their little boy Harry was still alive. He sighed. They were all supposed to have died. Dumbledore need a weapon to fulfill the prophecy and he had hoped that as soon as the Potters were dead, he could have used the Longbottom boy. Now that the Potter boy was alive and marked by the Dark Lord he had become the prophecy child.

As he sat there trying to decide what to do, Dumbledore felt his fury rise at the press, and more accurately Rita Skeeter. If she had not shown up and had a story printed in record time, Dumbledore could have killed the boy and thrust Longbottom into the spotlight. However, that was all in the past, and now he needed a plan for the future. He needed to find a way to make Harry bend to his will, a way to make Harry believe that Albus Dumbledore was the man to be followed. He had to be able to mold Harry into what he wanted him to be. The boy had to be able to receive instructions and follow them exactly

Slowly a plan began to form in Dumbledore's head, and the twinkle, which grew in brightness, in eyes did not bode well for Harry Potter in the least.

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Not five hours later, in a small New York suburb, little Harry Potter was startled awake by the shriek of the woman whose home he was to spend the next 14 years in.


	2. Unnatural, unwanted, and unloved

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling. Except the Turnis' 'cause I made them up.

A/N: Read and review, read and review. It's all I ask for.

Anything between the words **FLASHBACK** is just that, a flashback.

I'm putting this up at the same time as TSSiH so which ever one gets more reviews, that's the one I'm updating first.

Beta: Aisling. Thank you for finally giving me my chapters back! Of course, they did come back 10 times better, so thank you.

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Unnatural, unwanted, and unloved

The little boy didn't get it. When the blond whale cried, he got taken care of. When the dark-haired boy cried, on the other hand, he would either be ignored or slapped until silent. The other boy was no different from him, yet he was treated with kindness. They were the same age and lived in the same house. The green-eyed young boy figured that there were a few differences between them. After all the other boy was blond, fat and didn't have freaks for parents, but the biggest difference between them really was that the other boy was loved.

At four years of age – soon to be five – Harry Potter had already figured out that he was not wanted in the least by the Turnis family. Harry had learned to figure things out quickly. Otherwise, he got punished, and that was the one thing that Harry never wanted to happen. Punishments were swift, harsh, and usually quite painful. Harry knew that thinking about these things was never good for him, but he couldn't help himself. He tried, he really did, but he always found himself daydreaming about a family that loved him. A family that would actually care about him. A family that would give him food whenever he wanted it. A family that wouldn't throw him into his little cupboard under the stairs.

This was how Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, could be found on July 31st, his fifth birthday. Lying on his thin cot in the cupboard, Harry was fantasizing about a family that would actually celebrate his birthday with him. Of course, he knew that he would never have anything like that. After all, he was too much of a freak. He had been told by his Uncle Tim hundreds of times.

He was startled from his daydreams as "Boy, I hope you're up! Get into the kitchen now to make my Matthew breakfast!" was screeched through the door. Aunt Maggie had a voice that could make glass shatter.

Harry quickly left his 'bedroom' and hurried into the kitchen. A glance at the clock told him that it was 6 o'clock. He was late! If Uncle Tim came downstairs before breakfast was ready Harry would be dead. So, he started making breakfast. He slipping into the mind state that he used whenever he was cooking. He didn't think, he just did. Cooking was one of the few pleasures that Harry was able to enjoy with the Turnis'.

Harry was almost done cooking the meal when his uncle and cousin came down. He was in for it now. As soon as the eggs, bacon, and toast were done, Harry set them in front of the family.

" 'Bout time, boy," his uncle shouted at him. Harry flinched as eggs were sprayed at his face. He quickly moved to the corner of the kitchen waiting for the family to be done eating. Matthew, his cousin, and Aunt Maggie left the kitchen as soon as they were done. Harry picked up both their and Uncle Tim's plate, as he was finished as well. As soon as Harry had dropped all three plates into the sink, his uncle stood up. "Come here." Harry went over to his uncle, who grabbed his hands. He then lifted him up from the ground and pressed Harry's small hands against the still very hot stove.

Harry could not help but cry out. The pain was awful. He had never experienced pain like this before. The scalding heat seemed to seep into his hands through his pores. Finally his uncle allowed him to pull his hands away. The once pale palms were now charred black and dotted with painful red blisters. "Here are your chores. Have them done when I come home or you will be punished, freak," Uncle Tim bit out. A long piece of paper was thrust into his hands, and then the young boy was alone.

Harry sighed to himself. He really should be used to this by now. The abuse got worse every year, but he deserved all of it. He was an unnatural freak, who would never be loved. This kind of treatment was really just another day in the life of Harry Potter.

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"Didn't finish your chores, did you, boy?"

"No, Uncle Tim."

"Well, you know that means, don't you?"

"Yes, Uncle Tim."

_SLAP_

Harry was sent flying across the room. His small body protested the harsh treatment, but Harry ignored it. He struggled to his feet, because Uncle Tim didn't like it if he stayed on the floor.

"Useless freak!" A kick to the ribs. Harry was sure that he heard one snap.

"Good of nothing, lazy sod!" A blow across the head. It was hard enough that Harry found himself descending into blessed darkness.

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Three days: all he needed was three more days. There were only three days until Harry got to attend school for the first time. He would be going with Matthew but he would be getting away from his uncle and that was all that mattered. He also had only three days to heal. That truly meant nothing to Harry, because for some reason if he wished hard enough that the pain would go away or his wounds would heal, it would happen. Uncle Tim had found out about it and had tested it. Harry remembered it very clearly. He was still recovering from the test.

B **FLASHBACK** /B 

I _Harry lay on his back surprised that it didn't hurt, considering the intensity with which his uncle had kicked him. Obviously his uncle was also surprised, because when he flung open Harry's door, he looked shock. "How did you heal that, boy?" Harry didn't answer. "Answer me, boy!" When Harry once again didn't answer, Uncle Tim dragged him out, and promptly beat him into unconsciousness. Harry had been stupid enough to begin healing himself as soon as he became aware again. Both his uncle and his aunt had been standing right there. Seeing the injuries healing had pissed his uncle off so much, that he began beating him mercilessly. After waking up from that, Harry made sure that his injuries didn't heal. His family believed that he didn't have the ability. Later his uncle had beaten him because he had had a bad day at work. That led to Harry's current situation._ /I 

B **FLASHBACK** /B 

Keeping the test in mind, Harry began to slowly heal his injuries. He had to do it at a pace that wouldn't clue his uncle that he did in fact have this mysterious power.

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Harry looked up at the building. It was definitely not a very pretty building. It was made of brick and honestly looked like it was going to begin crumbling down at any moment. It looked second-hand; just like Harry's cello taped backpack. Harry wondered just how much he could learn here. He quickly went up the steps; it wasn't like he had to wait for a parent to say goodbye or anything like that.

Harry was jostled about as he tried to get to his first class. Once he got there, it was just as he had suspected. Within minuets, he understood what the teacher was teaching. That meant that, within minuets, he had learned all that the teacher would be teaching. This did not look good for him.

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Harry knew that he had to do worse than Matthew in school or he could be in for a nasty punishment. This turned out harder to do than he would have thought, because Matthew was, to say it nicely, an idiot. Harry made sure to keep his work at B level. No matter what grade he entered, he made sure to always keep it at a steady B. This kept him out of the radar, which teachers seemed to have about really good or really bad students. Of course, had he been allowed to show what he actually knew, Harry would be quite a few grades ahead. He studied much higher grade-level books during lunch and recess. He didn't actually get to eat the scrap of bread that his aunt gave him. Matthew always made sure of that. Also, going out side at recess seemed to scream to the other boys that he was fair game. That meant Harry Hunting.

Harry hated Harry Hunting with a passion. It had shown him something very useful, however. Now that he could look back at it, Harry could see that he seemed to have special abilities. He had been able to heal his injuries when he had to. He had also discovered that if he pictured what he wanted to look like and concentrated hard enough, he could look like what he was picturing. He remembered one particular Harry Hunting game. It had been very informative.

B **FLASHBACK** /B 

I _Harry ran as fast as he could, which for an eight year old was pretty fast. He could hear Matthew and his friends running behind him. If they caught him, he was dead. What had he been thinking? Teasing his cousin and his friends about their weight. God, he was an idiot. He skidded to a stop as he realized that he had run into a dead end street. Now he was dead. He closed his eyes and began wishing with all his might that he could either be anywhere but here, or invisible. He kept praying for a few minutes. Finally, he cracked an eye open. Not even Matthew could take that long to run a few feet. _

_As soon as Harry was able to comprehend was he was seeing, his eyes practically bugged out of his head. He was in the middle of a street, and apparently no one could see him. A quick glance down at himself showed that, indeed, he was invisible. He was also nowhere near his school. What the hell had happened? _ /I 

B FLASHBACK /B 

As long as Harry had some object on him, he could make it into whatever he wanted. It was for this reason that he began carrying large amounts of small objects like needles, pins, paper clips and that sort of thing. By the time he graduated elementary school, he could do all of these things as well as making object disappear if he wanted to. If it was inanimate, Harry could really make it do whatever he wanted it to do.

Harry lay in his cupboard just thinking about these things. At ten years of age, he was smarter than most of the kids in the middle school. After all, he got so much extra study time. He was about three grades ahead of the rest of his classmates. His intelligence had risen; he was finding new things that he could do everyday. Everything was becoming greater, more intense, in his mind. His beatings were following the same pattern. More often than not, when he messed up, things got ugly fast. He would usually end up in his cupboard for days on end unconscious.

Harry didn't want to think about the beatings right now. He had a problem that he knew just had to be dealt with. Lately, he had been getting the worst headaches. It was if his whole head was buzzing. Harry had no idea what it was. He was also noticed that when he felt an emotion strongly, the wind would pick up. There had been two different occasions where Harry could not help but feel a little fear.

B **FLASHBACK** /B 

I _His class had been standing at the edge of a pond doing who knows what. Matthew had done something that pissed him off. Harry didn't do anything, but the water in the pond began to splash at the edges. The few animals in the pond, which a few minuets ago had been swimming lazily around, were now darting about and those with teeth were snapping them. Where the pond had been peaceful a few moments ago, it had suddenly become very scary and the children had all rushed away. _ /I  
B **FLASHBACK** /B 

That had actually been quite tame compared with the other incident.

B FLASHBACK /B 

I _The Turnis' had been sitting by the fire warming up. It was freezing in the house. Harry was sitting at the other side of the room because he was not allowed near the fire. He just sat there, slowly growing angrier and angrier. Just when he thought he would go over there and just sit down, the fire spit out a large spark that landed on Uncle Tim. His shirt caught on fire, and chaos erupted. Harry didn't stay to see any of it. He just tore off towards his cupboard._ /I 

B **FLASHBACK** /B 

He hadn't even known what had happened and yet he had suffered for it. Summer was finally here. Next school year, he would be going to a different school. A school that Matthew didn't go to. He would get to start over again.

"BOY!" Harry sat up quickly. He had no idea what had pissed off his uncle, but whatever it was, it did not mean good news for Harry at all.


End file.
